


Investigative Journalism

by Gaqalesqua



Series: Valentine Vibrations [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Banter, Biting, Cunnilingus, F/M, Rough Sex, Strength Kink, Vaginal Fingering, smart Elders use protection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 20:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13443111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: Piper conducts an interview.





	Investigative Journalism

“You say you’re an investigative journalist,” the Elder began. Piper flicked up the brim of her cap.

“Got a badge, haven’t I?” she flung back, pointing to the scrap of paper reading  _press_  that was tucked into the leather band. 

“And you want to conduct a formal interview with me regarding the Brotherhood of Steel’s presence in the Commonwealth,” he continued. 

“Presence, goals, mission, whatever,” Piper replied. “Think of it as ‘getting the message out.’”

“I have Knights for that.”

“Oh, right, because that’s not scary at all,” Piper reminded him, a brow quirking. Maxson gazed at her, impassive, only a hint of irritation in his eyes. Most Wasteland men didn’t tower over her the way he did. Piper was immediately offended by the inches of height between the top of her head and his. 

“The Brotherhood isn’t here to be  _loved_ , Ms Wright,” Maxson told her stiffly. Piper pulled a pencil and some paper out. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a quote,” she replied. “Not here to be  _loved._  Got it. So, what  _are_  you here for?” 

“We’re here to do the right thing,” Maxson said. She could hear a faint squeaking of leather from behind him. “We’re here to take down the Institute.” 

“Well, that’ll definitely warm the Commonwealth to your cause once they know  _that_ ,” Piper agreed after a moment. She scribbled his answer down. 

“What do the Commonwealth think we’re here for, Ms Wright?” the Elder asked her. Piper looked up from her paper. The young Elder was still gazing at her, intense blue irises fixed on the pencil in her hand. They soon met her eyes.

“To Joe Wastelander, you’re just another big gang with lots of guns,” she admitted. Her hand found her hip. “Y’know, ‘our intentions are peaceful’ kinda clashes with the sound of vertibirds firing minigun rounds. Just saying.”

“You don’t approve of the Brotherhood,” Maxson guessed. His voice remained even. 

“I wasn’t aware I had to,” Piper said. He was unnervingly calm. It was making her uneasy. 

“You don’t. It just makes my job easier,” the Elder told her. 

“I’ve never made anyone’s job easier and you know it,” she scoffed. His lips quirked, a brow cocking. He briefly looked away to scan the doorway behind her, and then his eyes were on hers again. The unease slowly faded. So he  _was_  human. 

“Would you like to take a seat, Ms Wright?” Maxson suddenly asked. 

“Is that an order, Elder Maxson?” Piper asked. His lips quirked again. Piper found her eyes drawn to his mouth. 

“I think we both know that you would ignore it regardless of whether or not it was,” he pointed out. 

Piper took a seat. Maxson sat opposite, one arm draping over the back of the couch, resting his right foot against his knee. He looked unflappably regal and Piper crossed her legs. 

“So, you’re here to take down the Institute,” Piper said. “Anything else?”

“We plan on combating Wasteland infestations such as ghouls and super mutants, as well as any synths that cross our path,” Maxson replied. 

“Got any way of  _telling_  when a person is actually a synth?” Piper asked. Maxson fixed her with a long, hard stare. 

“Short of putting a bullet in someone’s head, there’s no concrete way of telling who a synth is, Ms Wright,” he said. It sounded almost like a warning. Piper felt her brows lower. 

“Really? Not even the most advanced faction in the Commonwealth can tell whether or not there’s a synth component buried in someone’s brain?” she demanded. 

“Is that concern in your voice?” he asked. “I’ve read your articles. You want to root out synths masquerading as humans just as much as we do. Were you hoping I could answer your prayers with a simple wave of my hand?”

Piper wasn’t sure what her answer to that was. “You like to act as though you’ve got everything under control,” she finally pointed out. 

“If I didn’t, nobody would take us seriously,” he shot back. Piper paused, then made a conceding face. 

“Okay, fair point,” she agreed. “Let’s say you succeed. Let’s say you defeat the Institute-”

“Destroy,” Maxson corrected. 

“You destroy the Institute. The Commonwealth waves bye-bye to a boogeyman. What then?” Piper asked. 

“That depends on the state of the Commonwealth.” He shifted his leg. Piper’s eyes dropped to his thighs. That suit of his left nothing to the imagination. “It may or may not need our  _concentration_ , Ms Wright.”

Her gaze snapped up to meet his. His face was a polite mask but for the single arched brow. 

“Should I be offended that you’re not giving your full attention to this interview?” he asked. 

“You have my full attention,” Piper assured him. Maxson shot her the tiniest of smirks. Piper felt heat coil in her belly and the sudden urge to untie her scarf. 

“That much is obvious.”

Piper coughed, averting her gaze. “You’re smug,” she said accusingly. 

“You came up here with an angle to grill me about my forces and what our plans are for the Commonwealth,” Maxson told her, a hand raising casually. “But instead you’re staring at me. I think I’ve earned the right to be smug, Ms Wright.” 

Piper glared at him but there was no heat behind it. 

“You’re pouting,” he added. 

“I’m not pouting.” 

She watched him lean forward for a moment before retreating. 

“You are pouting.” His voice had dropped low. “Or is this a journalist trick to make me drop my guard?”

Piper’s hand squeezed tightly on the pencil. The sudden shift in tone had that heat  _moving_ , spreading outwards to send a hot flush rushing through her body. 

“Surprise,” she said, her voice cracking. 

“Shame,” he said softly. Piper stared at his mouth again and when he leaned forward once more, she realised her heart was racing. Her thighs pressed together just enough to drag her underwear against her wet slit. 

The sudden sound of the pilots talking below broke her from her trance, and she pulled away. Just before her eyes darted to the back wall, she could’ve sworn Maxson’s face turned red. 

“We should conduct this interview elsewhere,” he suddenly said. “There are potential Brotherhood secrets you could learn by remaining on this level.”

“Where would you suggest?” Piper managed. 

“Follow me, Ms Wright.” 

The Elder launched himself from his chair like his legs were coiled springs, and held out his hand. Piper accepted it, and was dragged from her seat, almost colliding with the Elder’s body. 

“Apologies,” he said stiffly, and released her, striding over to the doorway. Piper fought hard to match his gait but she almost had to run to make sure she didn’t lose him when he started climbing the ladder. She had a feeling he would have  _carried_  her up if not for all the soldiers around. 

She took a moment to absorb the sights on the next deck. The Prydwen’s metal walls sloped up into darkness, brightly lit walkways and rooms laid out in front of her. 

“Ms Wright,” the Elder called, and she suppressed a smirk as she turned around to see him standing at a door. “The interview.”

“Yeah, the interview,” she agreed, a little distracted. Maxson pushed the door open. Piper hurried over and slipped past him. The door slammed shut behind her, and a hand gripped her waist, shoving her against the metal as he locked them in. 

 _Would kissing be too intimate_? she wondered curiously as he knocked her cap off. Piper grabbed handfuls of his coat and he shrugged it off, revealing the suit below. Her mouth went dry, and he used that moment of distraction to untie her scarf and toss it onto a nearby table. His coat was thrown over the back of a chair, and as Piper reached for the collar of his suit, he tugged the red trench coat open and pushed her hair aside, baring her neck. 

Piper let out a noise that she would never admit to making when his beard scratched her skin. She felt her shirt push up as he unbuckled her belt, and her hands grasped his shoulders, squeezing tight as his teeth gently nipped at her. He tugged off a glove, and Piper whined as a hand slid past her underwear and a rough fingertip circled her clit. 

“You’re supposed to be asking questions,” Maxson reminded her, his voice uneven as his palm pressed against her mound. Piper tried to laugh and he slid a finger into her, the sound breaking off with a sharp gasp. 

“Trying not to kill the mood,” Piper said breathlessly, and then  _“fuck,”_  as his palm ground against her nub. Her eyes squeezed shut. 

“Good idea,” Maxson agreed. His fingers dug into her pants and pulled them down. Piper spread her legs a little wider and unzipped his suit, and a wet finger slipped out of her to stroke her clit as her shaking hands worked the black fabric down to his waist. Her teeth dug into her lip as his touch found places that had gone unattended by another hand for  _too_  damn long. It didn’t help that his finger was rough and dexterous, and even though Piper could  _tell_  he was pretty unfamiliar with whole situation, he learned  _fast_. His other hand slid a few inches underneath her shirt before withdrawing, and as he sped up the stroke of his finger he began to unbutton her shirt with one hand. 

The moment her shirt fell open, Maxson pushed a hand up beneath her bra and cupped her breast, a thumb rubbing over her nipple. Piper swore again, digging her nails into his bare shoulders. He abruptly moved to unclasp her bra, both hands baring her shoulders. Piper grunted in frustration when the finger left her, but she quickly found herself on her tiptoes, arching against the door, because Arthur Maxson dropped to his knees and kissed her clit. The scratch of his beard felt unfairly good as it scraped against her inner thighs. She felt herself sink a good inch down the door. His hands grabbed her thighs, keeping her from dropping. 

“Oh my  _god_ ,” she groaned when his tongue swiped over the nub. She tried to keep herself quiet, a hand clapping over her mouth. She could have sworn she heard the bastard  _laugh_  as he licked and teased at her sex with his lips and tongue. A tremor rushed through her. Once again, Maxson wasn’t particularly skilled, but she looked down to see his eyes on hers and realised he was  _watching_  her, gauging her reaction each time he did something. Her knees buckled when he sucked on her clit and then he didn’t  _stop_. Piper couldn’t breathe. Pressure was building between her thighs with each pull of his lips. 

She tried closing her eyes but the wet lap of his tongue on her clit was suddenly too loud, so she kept her gaze on the ceiling of his room instead and tried to stifle the cry that came when a long, rough finger slowly slipped into her. Oh fuck. If he kept doing that, he was going to make her cum, and Piper…Oh god, she had an  _image_  to maintai-

Another finger pushed into her and Maxson slowly fucked her with them, mouth still busily dragging a litany of whimpers from her. It only took a few moments more, and Piper was shaking, barely holding in a wail as her orgasm ripped through her. She collapsed against the door. Maxson, undeterred, kept going until she was pushing at his head. 

He stood, picking her up with hardly a breath of effort, and placed her on the table. The cold metal made her flinch for a moment when it touched her hot skin.

“Give me a second,” Piper requested. He nodded, folding his arms over his chest. She let her eyes run over the sight. He was probably one of the biggest men she’d ever seen. He wiped his mouth clean with the back of his hand. 

“I would very much like to fuck you, Piper Wright, and I’m well equipped with the means to keep it from getting you pregnant,” Maxson told her. Piper’s eyes dropped to his crotch.

“I…that sounds like a good idea,” she stammered. 

“And how do you want to do this?” he asked. Her brow rose.

“I get to choose?”

“I can just bend you over the table if you want me to pretend to be a tyrant,” Arthur retorted, a smirk tugging at his lips. Piper’s stomach flipped and she tried not to bite her lip. 

“A real tyrant wouldn’t let me stop him,” she pointed out. Maxson’s eyes glittered.

“Astute of you.”

Maxson grabbed hold of her hips and flipped her onto her belly, pulling the red coat from her shoulders. Piper braced herself against the table, panting, and felt his fingers stroke up her slit. She jerked, still sensitive. Maxson pulled away, and she watched him round the table, pulling open a drawer. He retrieved a small, shiny square, and as he walked back to her he began to work his suit down over his thighs. She turned to watch as his boxers pulled down to reveal his erection. Her stomach flipped again. 

“You can change your mind.”

There must have been something in her expression that said  _doubt_ , and she looked back up at him. 

“This is an in-depth interview,” she said after a moment. “Wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t go  _in depth_.”

He laughed. “I’ll do my best to satisfy your curiosity, Ms Wright.”

Maxson pulled open the foil package and Piper turned around again, slipping off her shirt and tossing it down with her coat. Her bra slipped down her arms and she was removing that when she felt the tip of his cock pressing against her slit. She dropped it to the floor, bracing both hands on the table as his hands gripped her hips firmly, holding her in place. He pressed forward, and she felt him slip the first inch into her. The condom was lubricated, the oil cold, but as Piper shivered and parted her legs, it was already warming on contact with her. 

Her lips pressed together as he pushed in deeper, and finally, with a low grunt, his hips met her backside. He was holding her tight enough to leave bruises. Piper wondered how many times he’d done this. 

The first few thrusts were slow but deep, and she heard him grunt, his fingers flexing as he held her. 

“I-I’m not going to break,” she told him, arching as the slow friction made her nails scrape across the table. 

“Satisfaction,” he managed to pant, keeping the pace slow. Piper nodded, and despite the thick length buried inside her, she still  _jumped_  when he squeezed a handful of her ass. A few more slow thrusts as his hands wandered up her belly and cupped her breasts. His thumbs stroked her nipples. Piper found herself pressing into him as the little flicks of pleasure coiled between her thighs. 

“I-”

She forgot what she was going to say as the Elder kissed her neck, a gentle  _slap_  filling the air as his hips met her backside firmly. A sharp breath escaped her lips. Maxson’s beard scratched at the skin as he kept that irritatingly slow thrust. 

“C’mon,” Piper whined, bucking her hips to spur him on. Maxson grabbed her waist and held her steady, one hand still grasping her breast. But he  _did_  speed up. Piper bit her lip, moaning as she parted her legs a little wider. She felt his hand on her backside again, appreciating it with another squeeze. Her breath came in sharp pants as he sped up again. He nipped and licked at her shoulder, his fingertip rubbing at her nipple. 

“Wish I had more hands,” she heard him suddenly pant, as the hand abandoned her breast to grasp her hair and push it to one side. Piper gasped as the other side of her neck was decorated with bites that made her wriggle into his thrusts. 

His other hand slid over her hip, and Piper’s stomach flipped just moments before his finger found her clit and began to stroke. A shiver ran up her body as a broken moan left her mouth. Her nails scraped across the table again, and she arched, her eyes squeezing shut. 

“Y-you’re doing… _uhhh_ …great,” Piper managed to laugh. “W-with… _ahh_ …”

His calloused palm closed around her breast again, and Piper squeezed down on him. Maxson grunted, his teeth sinking into her shoulder. The reporter’s eyes rolled up and she reached back, grabbing a handful of his hair. The  _slap_  of their bodies coming together was suddenly louder as his thrusts roughened, and the finger rubbing her clit became two, making fast circles around the nub until Piper was shaking. 

“Fuck!” she yelped, her thighs squeezing together. That didn’t deter him. She could feel the hot coil of tension growing with each swipe of his fingertips, and at this rate, he was going to make her come again.  

And by the noises he was making in her ear, he wasn’t far off himself. Piper tightened her grip on his hair and listened to the strangled moan he made. 

 _“Piper,”_ he growled, his tongue sweeping briefly across the marks he’d left on her skin. Piper’s ass pushed against him as her thighs tightened, and her breathy whimpers became loud cries as that  _coil_  unravelled, her body shaking from head to toe. It’d been so  _long_  since she’d had something like this. He didn’t stop, his fingers still stroking, hips still rocking, even as Piper clamped down on him and came. She let herself relax, let the orgasm take her, and she rode the afterglow until she was quivering each time he rubbed her clit. 

“Nnn,” she managed, pushing his hand away, and he grabbed her hips and railed her, his cock already twitching. Her body flushed, hand leaving sweaty prints on his table, she kept that grip on his hair until his rhythm stammered and he came. A long, low groan filled the room, his grip tightening on her hips until, finally, he relaxed. Piper was still heaving for breath when he pulled out of her. 

She managed to hop up on the table and leaned back against the metal, her wetness leaving a damp patch on the cold surface. The chill felt good against her skin. Maxson had collapsed into a chair, his suit still pulled down to his thighs. She wanted to make a quip about him still wearing protection, but thanks to that orgasm, her mind was still frazzled. 

There were a few moments of laboured panting as the two of them recovered, and then Piper shakily got down off the table and went to retrieve her bra. 

“Does that conclude our interview?” she heard from behind her. The reporter straightened up, bra in hand, and gazed at the Elder with a cocked eyebrow. 

“Not unless you’ve got any brotherhood secrets to spill,” she replied with a teasing grin. His own brow quirked briefly. 

“It’ll take a little more than  _that_  to loosen my tongue, Ms Wright,” he drawled. Piper felt herself clench expectantly. 

“Give me a second to stop thinking about your tongue, and I’ll have a smart response,” she chuckled weakly. Maxson stood, and strode over to grasp her around the waist. 

“Now why would I give you such an advantage?” he murmured. 


End file.
